


Don't Trust the Pizza

by Spamberguesa



Series: Revenge on the Avengers [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Genderbending, Zombie Apocalypse, drugged food, loki is a failbot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 13:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spamberguesa/pseuds/Spamberguesa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki attempts revenge on the Avengers through...unusual methods. He pays for it in Jello shots, strip poker, too much glitter, and things he can never un-see. Features a lot of stoned Avengers in one epic treehouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Trust the Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my daughter, although I added the bits about Loki's mythological children later. (If she wants to find out _that_ aspect of his mythology, she can look it up on her own). She requested drugged pizza and a zombie apocalypse, so here you go. Pure, unadulterated crack.

Stark Tower might have been more comfortable, but Stark Treehouse, Tony thought, was much more fun. He'd proudly admit he'd never lost touch with his inner eight-year-old, and the Avengers' new headquarters reflected that.  
  
The zombies had forced everyone to live high above ground, and he liked to think he'd adapted more creatively than most. Stark Tower itself had burnt down during the first rising of the dead, and the living had long since evacuated what used to be the major cities. Most of those had been bombed anyway, in the early days, before people realized that life really could go on, with a few changes.   
  
Stark Treehouse was ingenious. Powered by an arc reactor, it was a completely self-sustaining environment, with its own power that never failed, plenty of hot, filtered water, and some of the last good scotch on the planet. It was a huge, sprawling thing, groups of rooms connected by walkways as they rose up the tree's branches. He'd situated it in a redwood, so he knew it wasn't going anywhere any time soon, and there was plenty of space to build.  
  
They had neighbors now, too, a proper little community. So far all the Avengers had stayed with him, though even Tony knew that was because they liked his booze. At least, if there was trouble, they were always around.  
  
There _was_ trouble, too, although nobody realized it until it was far too late. And it started with pizza, of all things.  
  
Nobody would own up to ordering it, for one thing. A pretty delivery girl named Lucie turned up on the doorstep with a stack of six boxes, each smelling like mouthwatering heaven, but even Thor denied making the call. Given that he was the only person who could _eat_ six whole boxes of pizza, Tony didn't believe him at all.  
  
"Dude, who cares? It's probably the wrong address or something, but I'm starving and it smells good." That was Darcy, blunt as usual. She did look hungry, too, eying the poor delivery girl like she wanted to tase her for the pizza. (Fortunately, Thor had accidentally broken her taser the last time she zapped him with it by mistake. Tony couldn't say he was sorry, considering she'd lit him up once on his way to the kitchen in the middle of the night. Jumpy girls and electrical weapons just didn't mix well.)  
  
"Just pay the poor girl, Tony," Pepper said, taking the stack of boxes and passing them to Thor. Tony suppressed a groan; handing food to Point Break was never a good idea, at least if you wanted to let anyone else eat. "You're crazy to be out this late," she added to Lucie. "You know it's not safe after dark. Sit here a while, and Tony can fly you home. Won't you, Tony?" From her tone, it wasn't a question.  
  
He sighed. "Sure I will." At least the girl was pretty -- tall, dark hair, green eyes, maybe in her early twenties. (Hey, he could still _look_. He was involved, not blind. Or dead.)  
  
She still looked a little nervous, but since Thor had already taken the pizza into the living-room, she kind of had to be paid. And it really did smell good, all cheese and warm, fresh bread. Avoiding Jane and Thor's attempts at cooking was also nice -- it was their night to make dinner, but the last time they'd tried it, they'd literally burnt down half the kitchen. Darcy had fortunately been smart enough to lurk just outside the door with a fire-extinguisher.  
  
When he went to the living-room, he discovered the rest of the group had attacked the pizza like a pack of wild dogs. He barely managed to snag two slices for himself, and only then because Lucie wouldn't take one. Poor girl looked like she wanted to run away, and looking around the room, Tony could kind of understand why. The Avengers having a feeding frenzy was honestly a little disturbing to watch.  
  
His first bite explained everything. This had to be the best pizza he'd ever eaten in his life -- it was the pizza of the gods, or something. By the time he'd finished his first piece, the thought struck him as insanely funny, and he found himself giggling like a little girl. _Damn_ , this was good. He needed a third slice before Thor devoured it all.  
  
When he tried to stand, he staggered, and almost tripped over Pepper, who was sprawled on the floor with a silly little grin on her face. Barton was plucking at the string of his bow like it was a banjo, humming off-key, and Bruce looked like he'd fallen into a coma on the couch. Natasha was trying (and failing) to do a handstand, Steve had disappeared God only knew where, and Jane seemed completely fascinated by her own toes.  
  
A loud thud made them all jump, and he turned to see Thor attempting to juggle his hammer. His second try made it hit him in the face, the third landed on his foot, and the fourth smashed an end-table.  
  
"Dude." Darcy stood, and weaved like a drunk as she made her way over to him. "You're going to smash the whole damn house." She tried to pick the hammer up, and when it wouldn't budge, she completely overbalanced and landed right on her ass.  
  
Tony laughed so hard he thought he was going to choke. It was so nice and warm in here, still smelling like fresh-baked bread, and he was just so _happy_. This was complete and total euphoria, and it was _awesome_.  
  
There was another thud, this time from Natasha, whose balance finally gave out. The sight of the Black Widow crashing to the ground like a kid falling off the monkey bars was almost more than he could handle. Pepper, on the other hand, let out a concerned shriek, and tried to climb to her feet.  
  
"Natasha, honey, are you okay? Oh my God, I think I'm shrinking. Tony, I'm shrinking!"  
  
"You're not shrinking, trust me. Hey, hey, you know what? You know what we should do?"  
  
"Beer pong!" Darcy yelled. She was still on the floor, and it didn't look like she intended to get up any time soon.  
  
"What is beer pong?" Thor asked. Jane had thankfully dragged him away from his hammer, and now sat behind him, playing with his hair. Her expression was as intent and focused as if she were studying some amazing new scientific discovery.  
  
"It's ping pong," Barton said, "but with beer." He was still messing with his bow, and Tony had just enough sense left to hope he didn't bust out any of his trick arrows.  
  
"Do we have any ping pong balls?" Pepper asked.  
  
"Do we have any _beer_?" Bruce added, opening his eyes.  
  
Tony snorted. "Um, hello? The day we run out of beer is the day the world ends. For real."  
  
He glanced at Lucie, who now looked more amused than nervous. That amusement turned to undisguised horror as he said, "You know, you're really pretty. Like, _really_ pretty. Has anyone ever told you you've got great legs?"  
  
She jerked away as though he'd shot her, and he held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa, I'm not asking you out or anything. I've got a great girlfriend, but man, you're still hot."  
  
"Um…thank you?" Had Tony been less happy, he would have taken offense to just how disturbed she looked. It was like she'd never been hit on before, or something.  
  
He would have pursued that train of thought, but it was completely derailed by a wall-rattling crash. Steve, sitting on his Captain America shield like it was a dish sled, went zooming past the entrance to the living room, shouting, "Wheeeee!" the entire way. Another staccato of crashes followed, as the shield and its occupant went bouncing down the second flight of stairs.  
  
Natasha's head snapped up, her eyes widening. "Want," she said, hauling herself to her feet. "Steve, give it up, it's my turn!"  
  
 _I think we're stoned_ , Tony thought, in a brief flash of clarity. Just what had been in that pizza? He reached out and grabbed Natasha's arm before she could pass, earning himself a sloppy punch to the jaw. Dammit, he should have known better than to grab an assassin. That was just reflex for her.  
  
"Oh my God, sorry," she mumbled. "What is it?"  
  
"There's something wrong with this pizza," he said. "You know how to interrogate people -- _you_ ask her." He cast a hard glance at Lucie, who suddenly looked very, very worried.  
  
"I don't --" she started, but was cut off by Barton, who had set aside his bow and was trying to stand.  
  
"Hostage!" he yelled. "Nat, come on, hostage!"  
  
"Hostage! Hostage!" Darcy chanted, before pausing. "Wait, what are we talking about?"  
  
"I think our pizza girl drugged us," Tony said. "Come on, guys. Get her."  
  
Wisely, Lucie fled. She might have been in the middle of a house of highly-trained superheroes, but she was the only one who wasn't currently stoned off her gourd. She leapt over the crumpled form of a giggling Steve Rogers with surprising dexterity, but she got no further than that. Thor, Barton, and Pepper all went crashing down the stairs after her, tripping like dominoes and dog piling the unfortunate girl.   
  
Tony winced in spite of himself. Yeah, the girl might have drugged them, might be some kind of spy, but _nobody_ deserved to be squished by the giant slab of meat that was Thor. Being landed on by Barton and Pepper was just adding insult to injury.  
  
Lucie let out a choking wheeze, but when Thor hauled her to her feet, she looked surprisingly unhurt. There was something vaguely wrong with that, but Tony just didn't have the brain power to work it out right now.  
  
"What do we do with her?" Pepper asked, standing and immediately falling over again.  
  
"Stuff her in the closet," Barton said. "The big one. But make her eat some pizza first."  
  
Lucie looked horrified by both ideas, but given how hard she was still wheezing, it didn't look like she'd be running again. Now that Tony thought about it, there was something weirdly familiar about her, although she was so pretty he was sure he'd remember if he'd met her before.  
  
"I'm really not --" she coughed, but Thor picked her up and slung her over his shoulder before she could try to say anything else. He wove and tripped his way back up the stairs, and dropped her onto the couch beside Bruce.  
  
"Natasha, sit on her, will you?" Barton said, right before he ran face-first into the edge of the doorway. It said a lot about just how well-trained the Black Widow was, that she hopped on Lucie's lap and pinned her in place without question. At least, not right away.  
  
"Wait, why am I doing this?" she asked, looking at the deeply distressed Lucie. "I want to go stair-sledding on Steve's shield."  
  
"Try saying that ten times fast," Darcy muttered. Naturally, Thor took that as a challenge, and just as naturally, he failed utterly, devolving into unintelligible slurring halfway through his first try.  
  
"We're force-feeding her pizza," Tony explained. Given that this was Natasha, it was almost certainly not the weirdest thing she'd ever been told, so she shrugged and stayed put -- or tried to, anyway. Lucie must have been uncommonly strong for such a slender girl, for she somehow managed to shove the Black Widow off of her, trying to make a break for the door again.  
  
Surprisingly, it was Darcy who got her this time, grabbing her by the ankles and hanging on like a remora. It wasn't enough to actually knock Lucie over, but it made her stagger, and Thor grabbed her before she could get any further.  
  
"My apologies, Lady Lucie, but it seems the Man of Iron wishes to talk to you." He shoved the girl down to the floor surprisingly gently, and laid his hammer on her chest.  
  
"…Damn," Bruce muttered, sitting up. He watched with obvious fascination as Lucie struggled, but nothing she did so much as budged the hammer. "How does that even _work_?"  
  
"Thor, that's mean," Jane put in. Once again she was playing with her toes, but her expression was hazily concerned.  
  
"It will not hurt her," Thor assured. "It will only keep her in place."  
  
"Tony, she might choke if we make her eat like this," Pepper slurred. Her eyes had gone entirely unfocused, but even high as a kite, she had more common sense than half of them put together.  
  
"So we feed her carefully," Tony said. "I just want to incapacitate her until this wears off for all of us."  
  
"Hostage!" Barton yelled, apparently lagging behind things a little.  
  
"She _is_ a hostage," Natasha said. "Keep up, Clint."  
  
There was only one piece of pizza left, but Darcy very carefully carried it over, holding it like it was some kind of precious treasure. It would have worked out a lot better if she hadn't lost her glasses at some point -- as it was, she tripped over Jane, and barely managed to avoid covering Thor in cheese and pizza sauce.  
  
"Sorry, big guy. Okay, lady, eat up and I'll let you play beer pong."  
  
"Body shots," Tony said, and Pepper thwacked him in the chest. "Right. Sorry. Jell-O shooters?" he offered instead.  
  
"That's more like it. I'll get the vodka."  
  
"Jell-O sounds great," Bruce said, barely managing to haul himself upright on the couch. "I’m _starving_ again."  
  
"Damn, me too." Barton sounded like he'd only just now realized that.  
  
"Lady Lucie, I cannot let you up until you have eaten this pizza," Thor was saying. He was trying to be persuasive, Tony thought, but he wasn't any good at it.  
  
"Dude, just eat it," Darcy added. "Obviously it won't kill you."  
  
Lucie looked so terrified Tony almost felt sorry for her. She must have realized there was no escape, however, because she took a tentative, careful bite, while Natasha hovered nearby just in case she choked. Halfway through the slice, she'd calmed down quite a bit, her eyes glazing over a little. By the time she'd finished, she was so relaxed that she didn't try to get up even when Thor took the hammer off her chest.  
  
"I still say we should stuff her in the closet," Barton said.   
  
"What is _with_ you and closets?" Tony demanded. "Is it some kind of metaphor?"  
  
Natasha grinned up at him. "Nothing that complicated. You can just have a lot of fun in a closet."  
  
It took Tony a moment to get it, and he grimaced. "Way too much information, guys."  
  
"You were the one who asked."  
  
Steve chose that moment to stumble through the door, very carefully holding his shield like a tray. On it were a dozen or so shot glasses, each filled with Jell-O that had only partially coagulated. The whole thing absolutely reeked of alcohol, stinging in Tony's sinuses like paint thinner. Whose idea was this, again? Oh, wait. His. Right.  
  
Natasha, now satisfied that Lucie wasn't going anywhere, took a shot glass and smirked at it. Apparently she was vastly overestimating her current dexterity, because she tossed it into the air, no doubt intending to catch the contents in her mouth. Unfortunately, she way overdid her throw, and the glass hit Barton right in the face.  
  
"Bzuh?" Barton rubbed his face, looking entirely bewildered when his fingers came away coated in blue goo.   
  
Darcy, still on the floor, flailed like a turtle on its back. "Ooh! Ooh! Finger painting!"  
  
"No wasting my booze," Tony ordered, but she either didn't hear him, or simply didn't listen. She grabbed a glass off Steve's makeshift tray, and with an expression of total seriousness, started dabbing red goop on the dazed Lucie's face. It looked like she was trying to use the Jell-O as makeup, and was completely failing.  
  
Lucie waved a hand at her, trying to shove her away. "Leemee 'lone," she mumbled. "Want sleep."  
  
"Party pooper," Jane said, somehow managing to slur two words that didn't contain an S. At some point she'd started braiding Thor's hair, and somehow managed to make him look like a bearded, armor-wearing schoolgirl. That was an image Tony would probably never get rid of, although he'd try.  
  
He shook his head. He was beginning to feel a little sleepy himself, grinning foolishly while Jane did her best to turn her boyfriend into a pretty pretty princess. Lucie was still grumbling at Darcy, Steve had plopped all the shot glasses on the coffee-table, and Pepper, her white shirt splashed with colored stains, staggered in and almost tipped them all over.   
  
Tony giggled, almost dozing, cruising the fuzzy feeling of well-being. It was all so peaceful, right up until a familiar series of crashes jarred the walls.  
  
"Shit! Turn, Barton!"  
  
"I can't!"  
  
"Then stop!"  
  
"I _can't_!"  
  
Tony shoved himself upright and staggered to the doorway, just in time to watch Steve's shield go rocketing by, careening down the stairs, over the landing, and on down the second set. Barton, Natasha, _and_ Bruce had tried to cram themselves onto it, and all three went flipping ass over teakettle when it slammed into the front door.   
  
Bruce was the first one to sit up, looking totally bewildered. "What the hell just happened?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Barton replied, rubbing his forehead. "Let's do it again."  
  
Tony was tempted to try it himself, but Pepper yanked him back into the room by his collar. "No," she said firmly. "Don't even think about it."  
  
"You never let me have any fun," he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet as she pulled him back to the couch. It looked like Jane was having the exact same argument with Thor, who had somehow acquired a bow in his hair. Darcy, giggling like a lunatic and now covered in multicolored, alcoholic goo, dug her phone out of her pocket and started snapping pictures. In a brief flash of clarity, Tony realized they were probably all going up on her damn Facebook tomorrow.  
  
\----  
  
Loki was relatively sure he was not having a good day. His plan would have gone off perfectly if he hadn't lingered to watch his enemies make total fools of themselves, but unfortunately, he had. Now, still wearing the guise of Lucie the pizza girl, he felt like the floor was gently rocking beneath him. There had been a point to all this, an actual plan, but at the moment, he had no idea what it was.  
  
The girl who used to have glasses poked him in the forehead, dragging him back to something like consciousness. "Didn't you used to be a chick, like, two seconds ago?" she asked.  
  
He blinked, tried to sit up, fell right back over, and looked at her like she was insane. It took his drug-fuzzed brain a moment to catch up with events, and when he did, he held a hand in front of his face and almost panicked. Somewhere along the way he'd reverted back to his normal form, and some part of him knew that was a bad thing.   
  
Oh. Right. He was Loki-shaped, in a room full of Avengers. Yes, this was _bad_.  
  
But no -- the girl who no longer had glasses didn't seem to recognize him. He could still get out of this with all his limbs intact. Always provided he could get his legs to work, anyway.  
  
Before he could try, the girl without the glasses waved an arm at the group. "Guys, check it out! Our pizza chick turned into a dude!"  
  
…Oh, no.  
  
The four pairs of eyes still in the room turned to him, and Loki wondered which one would try to hit him first. If he'd had any money, he would have put it on Thor, who sat nearest him -- wait, was that a bow in his hair? When had _that_ happened?  
  
"Brother!" Thor cried, grabbing him by his collar and dragging him into a hug so tight Loki thought he was going to cough up one of his lungs. This was worse than getting hit. So, so much worse.  
  
"Nice bra," Stark snickered.  
  
Loki grimaced, and not just because his not-brother seemed intent on breaking his ribs. His delivery uniform had, unfortunately, been created for his female form, which had been quite a bit shorter and, well, _female_. As if this whole thing wasn't humiliating enough.  
  
"Actually, it kind of is," the Foster woman said, inspecting the strap. "Can I have it?"  
  
Was he the only person in this room who wasn't insane, as well as drugged? Not that he could have answered even if he'd wanted to, considering Thor had yet to release him.  
  
"Hey, hey guys, you know what? You know what we should do?" the spectacle-less girl said, jumping where she sat, and promptly falling over. "Strip poker!"  
  
"Yes!" Stark cried.  
  
"No." That was his redheaded girlfriend -- what was her name? Pepper? Who named their child after a spice?   
  
"Yes," the Foster woman said.   
  
"What is poker?" Thor asked, finally, _finally_ allowing Loki to breathe properly.  
  
"Something made even better when you add stripping to it. Somebody go get everyone else, before Barton and Natasha either kill themselves or turn Bruce into the Hulk. I know I have cards somewhere." Stark rose, and tripped his way out of the room.  
  
"Darcy, I'm going to murder you," Pepper threatened, trying to glare. Her eyes were so glazed it wasn't working very well.  
  
The girl without the glasses -- Darcy, apparently -- only grinned. "Just make sure you don't lose," she said. "Last time I played this in college, my boyfriend wound up running around with my bra on his head."  
  
"I'd put this bra on _my_ head," Foster said, snapping the elastic strap against Loki's back. Surprisingly, it stung, and he wondered again just where the hell this had all gone wrong. Fate must be punishing him.  
  
To make matters worse, the rest of the Avengers came weaving and stumbling into the room. The Widow and Barton looked like they'd rolled down a hill covered in blackberry bushes, the man who became the Hulk had a huge bruise over one eye, and Captain America had somehow acquired pink sunglasses.  
  
"Somebody said something about strip poker?" the Widow asked, picking what looked like splinters of wood out of her hair. "Wait, what the fuck is he doing here?"  
  
"Pretending to be a chick, apparently," Stark muttered, and shuddered. "I can't believe I hit on him when he was a her."  
  
"You hit on the pizza girl?" Pepper cried, looking wounded.  
  
"Just a little," Stark said, trying to calm her down. "It was innocent, I promise."  
  
"It was _disturbing_ ," Loki growled. He was ready to throw himself out a window -- at this point, he'd take the zombie-infested streets over this nightmare.  
  
"Hey, you were a woman. How the hell was I supposed to know you were really Thor's psychotic little brother?" Stark peered at him. "Since when can you become a woman, anyway?"  
  
"My brother has always been a shape shifter," Thor said proudly, thumping Loki on the back so hard it made him wheeze.   
  
"A shape shifter with good taste in lingerie," Jane giggled. "Seriously, Loki. Give me the bra. Thor, make him give me the bra."  
  
Stark started laughing so hard he choked, and Pepper tripped her way over to see what Jane was talking about. She almost landed on the couch face-first.  
  
"That _is_ nice. Do you have another one like it?"  
  
What? Just… _what_? Why had Loki let them feed him that cursed pizza again? Wait. The hammer. Right, they'd forced it on him. "No, I don't have another like it. Thor, let go of my arm. I will leave you all to your…strip poker." He had no more idea of what that was than Thor did, and he didn't want to find out.  
  
He never did figure out how he somehow wound up duct-taped to a chair in the middle of the floor, reduced to holding little rectangular cards with his feet. Pepper, who had flatly refused to play, was standing behind him and doing something no doubt awful to his hair. Stark and Barton were down to their underwear -- neither were sights he ever wished to see again -- and Foster had indeed swiped his bra. Currently, Darcy was wearing it on her head.  
  
The Foster woman herself was passed out on the couch, though that didn't prevent Thor from attempting to ask her questions about the cards in his hands. Even stoned, Loki had managed to pick up the rules of the game, but Thor, as usual, was hopelessly lost. The bow on his head just made the whole thing funnier, and Loki found himself giggling. Giggling. He'd never giggled in his life before.  
  
"Should I call you Thorina?" he asked, pointing at the bow with one foot. "Thorella? Have you ever told your Jane about your own stint as a -- what is the word? Crossdresser?"  
  
Thor froze, and Darcy's shriek of laughter stirred Jane Foster. "No _way_ ," Darcy said, staring at Thor. "Really? Spill!"  
  
Thor's face had gone an interesting shade of crimson, and he glared at his brother. "Did you have to bring that up?"  
  
Loki's grin was absolutely evil. "Of course I did. He made a terrible bride, I might add. Picture him as he is now, in a long white dress, with a veil."  
  
Behind him, Pepper was failing in her attempts to choke back her laughter. Even the Widow was having a hard time maintaining a straight face, and Barton wasn't even trying. Rogers just looked horrified.  
  
" _Why_?" Stark demanded.  
  
"My hammer had been stolen," Thor said, with as much dignity as he could muster. "I had to trick the thief into returning it."  
  
"By posing as his bride," Loki added.  
  
"With you as my bridesmaid," Thor retorted.  
  
"Yes, but _I_ can shape shift," Loki pointed out. "Obviously. You didn't even shave your beard."  
  
"How ugly was this bride supposed to be?" Barton asked. "Then again, I read some of your myths. Loki, did you really fuck a horse?"  
  
" _What_?" Pepper shrieked.  
  
"According to Norse mythology, Loki banged a horse and gave birth to another one," Darcy said, not looking up from her cards.   
  
"I did nothing of the sort," Loki snapped. "It's not my fault your primitive ancestors knew nothing of genetic engineering."  
  
"Horsefucker," Stark muttered.  
  
"Can we stop swearing?" Rogers demanded, looking uneasy.   
  
"He was a female horse, if that makes it any better," Darcy said.  
  
"Mortal, just _stop talking_ ," Loki snarled. She just stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
"Wait, how the hell did we even get on this subject?" Barton asked.  
  
"We were talking about Thor as a cross dresser," the Widow said.  
  
"I wish Asgardians had digital cameras," Stark snickered. "At least, for the Thor in a dress part. Not the whole Loki fucking a horse thing."  
  
Loki ground his teeth, but he knew there was no point in arguing. Stark was impossible even when he was sober. Meanwhile, Pepper still wasn't done playing with his hair, and he really didn't want to know what she was doing to it. At least it couldn't be any worse than Thor's.  
  
Darcy, declaring he was too cranky, forced one of those nauseating things they called Jell-O shooters on him. It tasted vile, but after three of them, the scenery started to blur. At some point it faded out entirely, fortunately before anybody lost all their clothes.  
  
He woke up with the sun shining right in his eyes, still tied to the chair, his head pounding. Somehow, he'd wound up wearing someone else's pants, his toenails had been painted in rainbow colors, and one glittery silver high heel had been more or less forced onto his foot. It was much too small, mostly dangling off his toes, and close inspection told him it had lipstick on it.   
  
_I don't want to know. I really, really don't want to know_. Now that he was actually sober, getting out of the duct tape was a relatively easy thing. He kicked the shoe off, rubbed his aching head, and looked around.  
  
The rest of the group were still passed out, lying amid a mess of playing cards, empty shot glasses, pizza boxes and, for some reason, multicolored glitter. Good grief, he was covered in glitter, as though someone had just dumped it right over his head. It was likely a good thing his consciousness had faded out when it had.  
  
He definitely wasn't leaving the house like this. Rogers would have to live with losing some of his clothes, and Stark would have to deal with a shower drain clogged with glitter.  
  
Loki squinted when he turned on the bathroom light, wincing as it seemed to stab straight into his brain. When he looked in the mirror, he immediately wished he hadn't.   
  
His hair had been tortured into unnatural, very frizzy curls, and someone had very sloppily put makeup on his face. Bright red lipstick, vivid blue eyeshadow, and -- were those really false eyelashes? They _were._  
  
Grumbling, he cranked the water up as hot as it would go, and discovered in short order that glitter was actually extremely difficult to wash off. The makeup went easily enough, although there was something unpleasantly sticky in his hair, something he really didn't want to wonder about. He had to use half a bottle of strawberry-scented shampoo to get it out, and then he just smelled like fruit. Wonderful. At least he no longer felt like he'd spent the night at the bottom of a garbage can.  
  
Unfortunately, when he went to sneak out of the house, the Darcy girl was awake. Sort of. She still had that damned bra on her head, and her glasses were upside-down. At least she didn't scream on sight of him; instead she raised him an unsteady toast with her mug of coffee, and snickered.  
  
"You've caught rave herpes," she said, her snicker becoming a laugh when he scowled at her. "The glitter. It's called rave herpes. Good luck getting rid of it."  
  
He could have killed her. He could have killed all of them, and he might have done it, if the girl hadn't given him a very thorough once-over. "You know, you're kinda pretty," she said.  
  
That did it. Everyone in this entire house was insane -- and they had the gall to call him crazy. He stalked out the door, still barefoot, tripping over the Captain America shield as he went.   
  
\----  
  
Darcy had the house to herself for several hours. It gave her plenty of time to upload all the pictures from her phone to Facebook, giggling the whole while. The Avengers would probably want to get in line to murder her, but this was just too damn good to pass up.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(TTS podfic) Don't Trust The Pizza by Spamberguesa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11613618) by [texttospeechoutfit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/texttospeechoutfit/pseuds/texttospeechoutfit)




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